


Come With Me

by Ghostinthehouse



Series: Demon and Angel Professors [155]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Professors, Disabled Crowley (Good Omens), M/M, Nonbinary Character, Other, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:47:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29025189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghostinthehouse/pseuds/Ghostinthehouse
Summary: The moment the lift doors closed and they were alone, Crowley crumpled against Aziraphale's supportive side. "Appreciate the rescue, angel."
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Demon and Angel Professors [155]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1412962
Comments: 18
Kudos: 523





	Come With Me

The moment the main crowd turns to stare at Dr Fell, two of the older students peel off the edge and head for B, closely trailed by Izzie.

B flattens herself defensively against the wall as Izzie pushes through to stand protectively in front of her.

The older students glance at each other, and stop just out of reach. "Figure you don't want to be around when they descend on whoever's left demanding answers," one says, with a coaxing smile. "Come on, this way."

The other pulls open a nondescript door to reveal a hidden staircase.

B eyes them warily, then the gawping crowd, flinches, and slides through the offered exit. The other three follow her in and close the door behind them.

"I'm Cass, by the way," the coaxer says. "They/them."

"Jane. She/her." The door-opener adds.

B stares at them for a long moment, unable to find words for the upwelling of confusion and anxiety inside her. She doesn't even know them, why would they help her? Why would anyone go out of their way to help her when she caused the mess in the first place by drawing attention? Izzie, at least, she knows is her friend.

Izzie puts a cautious arm around her. "It's ok," she murmurs. "Really."

B crumples under the reassurance, and Izzie draws her down to sit on the top step, where she can bury her face in her arms and just breathe for a bit.

Cass says gently, "It isn't your fault. Something like this happens every year. You just happened to be caught in it - but you didn't look surprised that those two are together, so I'm assuming you already knew. I've been there too."

"We're people the professors helped," Jane explains. "We try to look out for each other, if we can. Paying it forward, if you like."

That - made more sense. A debt being paid, nothing personal. B takes a deeper, shuddery, breath an lifts her head. "I'm B. Barbara." The barbarous outsider, not conforming to custom. "She/her."

Cass grins almost shyly. "Nice to meet you. Sorry about the circumstances."

***

The moment the lift doors closed and they were alone, Crowley crumpled against Aziraphale's supportive side. "Appreciate the rescue, angel."

"How long did they keep you standing, dearest?"

"Too long. Not that long objectively though. Did B get away?"

"Yes, our older ducklings gathered her up."

"Good." He groped for the rail, gritting his teeth and forcing himself to breathe slowly and steadily. "She doesn't deserve to be mobbed for laughing at a joke."

"They'll look after her. I'll look after you, dear, don't fuss." Aziraphale flicked him that edge of a smile that showed his bastard side and his protective side had joined forces and intended to smother Crowley in softness.

Crowley managed a rueful baring of teeth, a fraction short of a smile. "Save it for when we're home, angel. I just need a seat. Soon."

Aziraphale huffed in wordless disbelief.

Crowley sighed. "Angel. If being open about it didn't run the risk of my reputation taking a nosedive from 'respected and feared grouch' to 'dismissed and pitied bitter cripple' I'd let you. But it does. And once it slides there's no chance of recovery. Trust me."

Aziraphale grimaced, but nodded, accepting that rather than trying to overrule him. "Look after yourself though. For me?"

"Yeah, yeah, do my best."

The door chimed, and they both straightened. Aziraphale offered his arm, all fussy, old-fashioned Dr Fell, and Crowley took it, apparently just humouring him by going along with it, and they went out together, heading for the nearest place to sit.

And if Crowley's grip was a bit tighter than courtesy required, and if Aziraphale talked endlessly and easily about Shakespeare all the way to cover them not splitting up, nobody who noticed thought it worth commenting on. The rumour mill was far too busy overflowing with reactions to the reveal of Dear Anthony's identity to absorb anything else at present.


End file.
